


Hell's Kitchen Is Jericho

by stylescoalition



Series: Hell's Kitchen Is Jericho [1]
Category: Hell's Kitchen (US TV) RPF, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen, M/M, Multi, and also im rambling now, and everybody else as the contestants, features chris jericho as gordon ramsay, it's supposed to be a humorous fic more than anything else with slight romantic undertones, john cena as jean phillipe the maitre'd, the shipping sort of takes a backseat though to everything else going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 20:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8071297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylescoalition/pseuds/stylescoalition
Summary: In this season of Hell's Kitchen, Chef Chris Jericho, is looking for a chef to run his new restaurant, the Appleton in East Hollywood. With 12 contestants, the greatest chef in the world has great options to choose from... or does he?





	1. 12 Chefs Compete (The Intro)

**Author's Note:**

> hello there, thanks for deciding to read my fic! after years of roleplaying and being told i should write fics, i never thought i should do it but then i came across an idea that im very passionate about - a hell's kitchen/wwe crossover! this fic is based off a reality show, of course, so there will be confession cam segments and those will be in all italics just to, ya know, make it obvious that it's not part of the actual dialogue going on and oh boy, i hope im explaining this good enough.
> 
> ANYWAYS, thank you again for reading my fic and i hope you all enjoy reading it! new episodes (which im hoping will be about 3-4 chapters) should be coming out every sunday, perhaps a bit later if im feeling a writer's block~

 

Slowly, maitre'd John Cena opens the door to reveal Chef Chris Jericho standing behind it with his arms crossed over his chest. He fixes a heated gaze on all of the 12 contestants, making them all quiver in fear for a minute or two before he finally opens his mouth.

“Don't just stand there staring at me! Get in there and cook me your signature dishes! Come on, hasta la vista, babay!!”

And just like that, the contestants are in a mad dish to the famous Hell's Kitchen area to prepare their dishes for Chef Jericho's approval. Pots and pans, spatulas and whisks, rattle with the noise reverberating throughout. A rather nice symphony of curse words and a very loud annoying cackle (similar to a hyena) also accompany these loud sounds. Chef Jericho believes that there's no quicker way to assess a chef's ability than to taste their signature dish. And these aspiring chefs have just 45 minutes to prove to Jericho why they're so deserving of their spot.

45 minutes later, the chefs stand in front of the kitchen counter with their signature dishes hidden beneath silver domes, aprons tied around all of their waist and every single one of them bursting with anticipation and nervousness at the prospect of the best chef in the world tasting their food. Chef Jericho was not an easy man to please but his approval was definitely worth making the effort for – especially if they're planning to win a spot as Executive Chef in his new restaurant, Appleton of East Hollywood.

“Alright, now let's clear one thing up. Ladies, you're the red team – gentleman, you're the blue team. And for the first time ever.... **EEEEEEEEEEEEVER** ... in Hell's Kitchen, the red team's dishes will be going head to head with the blue team's dishes. Do you all understand what I am saying to you right now?” Chef Jericho asks in a loud voice, smiling when all of the competing chefs immediately give a “YES, CHEF!” in response.

A large, tan man with a full sleeve tattoo on his left arm and long black hair tied back in a bun walks up to the table alongside a spray-tanned woman. She dyed her hair red and wore a red dress with red heels – all red everything, it seems.

“Yes, first name is?” Jericho asks the man.

“Roman.”

“Alright, Roman, your dish, please?”

Roman takes the dome off his plate to reveal what he has prepared underneath. “This is a gnocchi with pomodoro sauce.”

_ “Uh, so I'm Roman, I'm a 31 year old executive chef from Florida and I've been cooking professionally for about six years.” Roman says into the camera for his confession cam segment. “My father's been cooking professionally most of his life and I guess I ended up following his footsteps. Cooking wasn't exactly my dream, to be honest, but the second I touched a spatula in my wife's kitchen and offered to help out with dinner, I was hooked and I haven't thought of anything else ever sense. There's nothing more I wanna do in my life than to be the head chef at one of Chef Jericho's restaurants – that's my passion.” _

“Wow, I'm quite amazed you have the time to cook gnocchi. Honestly, I'm excited.” Jericho says as he eyes the visually appealing dish, a small smile on his face. Perhaps this one had potential!

“Uh, I didn't have time to make it, Chef. It.. um, it was frozen.” Roman says, swallowing as he prepares for Chef Jericho's reaction.

So much for potential.

Jericho purses his lips together and looks down at the once visually appealing dish, taking a deep breath. “So you're serving me... frozen gnocchi?” And then, he looks up to stare Roman right in those beautiful, deep brown eyes, the both of them having a very uncomfortable stare down for what feels like an eternity. It's like Roman can feel every single one of his sins weighing down on him with one stare alone. He makes a note to go to church when he goes back to Florida to repent.

“You know, this could've been a mind blowing dish. I like the idea but the execution is...” He shakes his head and looks over towards the gorgeous redhead, not expecting much but looks are always deceiving so Jericho doesn't judge.

“Hopefully you have something better prepared for me, miss... ?”

The redhead smiles and bats her eyelashes, flipping her hair back behind her shoulders. “My name is Eva, Chef.”

“Okay, lovely name, great start already. Your dish?”

Eva happily takes the dome off to reveal her dish underneath, a coconut and pomegranate celery root salad. Jericho furrows his eyebrows and takes a closer look as he tries to figure out exactly what it is. Well, he _ knows _ what it is but...

“What... what _ did _ you cook? It's just a salad.”

“The nuts are toasted!” She replies enthusiastically.

“Well good thing the nuts are _ toasted _ , that's the most important part! You're bloody joking, aren't you?” Jericho asks in disbelief. While the dish was nice to look at, he was expecting something more... especially if they had 45 minutes.

“No, chef. I'm not really good with jokes.” Eva says, running her fingers back through her hair as she watches Jericho take a fork to her salad with a sigh.

_ “Helloooo there, I'm Eva... and I'm a 27 year old restaurant assistant manager right here from Cali. Cooking has like, always been a hobby of mine, ever since I was 23 years old and it would mean the absolute world to me to become an executive chef at Chef Jericho's restaurant. All the money, all the fame... and I mean, getting to show off my cooking, of course!” She laughs joyously as she throws her hair back, sparkling white teeth showing underneath her red lips. _

“Yeah, I got that... christ.” Jericho takes a bite of the salad and shrugs. “From a woman like you, I was expecting something more exciting but this is just... bland.” He has to pick a winner from this?

 “Well. Congratulations to both of you. You get absolutely no points. Back in line.” Jericho shoos them off and Eva struts on back to her team while Roman walks back looking down at his dish in shame.

“Next up, let's go!”

A man with two toned hair and a black suit that looks like it's been worn a thousand times walks up alongside a cute younger woman with her hair put up towards the side in a rainbow colored scrunchie, her whole outfit bursting with color – a huge contrast to the monotone man beside her. Jericho can't help but grin at the two toned man and the seemingly permanent smirk on his face.

“So tell me your name.”

“The name's Seth.” He says in a rather smug tone, as if his name was the most important name in the world.

“Nice to meet you, Seth. Interesting hair color. My daughter does her hair the same way.”

He gnaws his teeth along his bottom lip, his smirk faltering at the insult. “It's to stand out among everybody else. _ Chef.” _

_ “Hey man, what's up?” Seth cackles into the camera. “My name's Seth and I'm a 28 year old sous chef from Iowa and I've pretty much been cooking all my life. Not to brag or anything but like, I'm kind of a master at it. Actually, no, don't even /call/ me a master at cooking, I'm like the fuckin' architect of the kitchen. I know everything there is to know about cooking, baking, fuckin' grilling, everything! It's pretty obvious I'm gonna win this thing because nobody else is qualified like me.” _

Jericho detects the change in his tone and holds his hands up in surrender. “Alright big guy, calm down, just taking the piss out of ya a bit. Now show me your dish.”

With a huff, Seth takes the dome off his plate and crosses his arms over his chest. “This is actually a dish inspired by you, I know you cooked it at one of your restaurants before. It's a salmon with basil cream sauce.” This prompts an eyeroll from one of his teammates in the back, one who had a struggling hairline and wore a leather jacket over a grey tanktop with a hole near the hem from wear and tear.

“Suck up.” The rather unkempt man murmurs to Roman, a quiet chuckle coming from the bigger man but not so loud it'd get Jericho's attention.

_ “Yeah, so I'm Dean... I'm from Ohio.” Dean says, relaxing back against the chair with his arm over the top. “And I'm 30 years old. I'm a line cook at this pretty nice mom and pop place and it's a good gig, yeah. Never really worked in a fine dining sort of place before but I definitely think I have the skills to do it and even run a restaurant owned by the best in the world at what he does. I just need a chance, that's all.” His voice is calm and cool, much like the actual man himself. “Cooking's always been a sort of therapeutic thing for me and I don't take it too seriously. I just wanna have fun with it and succeed along the way. Life's too short to worry about shit, ya know?” _

Seth's personality might be absolute shit but his dish is absolute _ beauty. _ When Jericho takes a bite from it, he's pleasantly surprised and even takes a second bite before setting the fork down and rubbing his hands together. “Wow. Salmon's cooked perfectly and the sauce is done nicely. Very impressed, Seth.”

Suddenly, Seth perks up and the smirk returns to his face. His ego is no longer bruised! “Thank you, Chef, I greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course. Now what's your name, darling? You seem quite chipper today.”

The colorful girl shrugs and smiles bashfully, clasping her hands behind her back. “Just excited to kinda live my dream, that's all. Uh, I'm Bayley, Chef. It's really nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Bayley. What do you have prepared for me, today?”

She lifts the dome off the plate, looking down at it proudly. “Well, Chef Jericho, what I prepared for you today are pan roasted pistachio scallops with a pureed parsnip.”

_ “Yeah so uh, I'm Bayley. I don't even know why they chose me.” She chuckles and rubs the back of her neck before continuing. “I'm glad they did though! Uh, so I'm a 24 year old culinary student from California. Not like, Hollywood or anything though, I'm from a real small town. Like, really small. And uh, I've been cooking all my life, even when I was 5 years old I was always so interested in it and everything about it. I'm not expecting too much, honestly, but working in an environment like this and working under Chef Jericho especially is gonna really help me out, I think. I couldn't be more thankful.” _

Jericho digs his fork into the scallop and shoves it into his mouth, swallowing it with a resounding hum of approval. “Mmm, not bad. What did you say you did for a living?”

“Oh, uh, I didn't say that. Not yet, anyways, um, but I'm a culinary student, Chef.”

“Wow... I wouldn't have guessed. That's incredible, you should really be proud of yourself. Scallops are a bit burnt at the top but it's cooked very well besides that and the puree is quite nice. While I have to give my point to the men's team, this is definitely a solid dish. Nice job – nice job to both of you.” Jericho tells them, Bayley and Seth heading back into their team with congratulatory claps from either side and boosted egos to both contestants.

“The bar has officially been raised! Next up!”

Dean and a woman with magenta dyed hair and flashy jewelry walk up to the table – and she had a rather intimidating aura to her... this aura, however, doesn't phase the carefree Dean at all.

“Your name, sir?”

“Name's Dean, Chef. You can call me Deano too, whatever works for ya.” Dean drawls out, putting his hand on the dome.

“Think I'll stick to calling you, Dean, Dean.” Jericho says, getting an uneasy feeling from the man already. There was something about him that Jericho just didn't like... he seemed like he just didn't care. He didn't seem too frazzled at all by anything. “Show me your dish.”

Dean lifts the dome off to reveal a dish that completely sets him apart from the other contestants, making him stand out more than Seth's emo hair. Jericho blinks a few times in surprise and leans in closer to inspect. “Oh goodness. What makes you think today was the best day for...”

“Pork tacos? Because I firmly believe, Chef Jericho, that they are _ delicious. _ I know they don't look too great but if you give them a chance, you'll keep comin' back for more, I promise. My buddies love it and I eat 'em almost everyday.” He says, smiling hopefully at the best chef in the world. “You know I'm right.”

Jericho scrunches his nose at the interesting man before beginning to fold the taco. “Alright, well, let's do this properly then...” He says as he folds it completely, bringing the taco up to his mouth before taking a tentative bite. Jericho's expecting to taste death but... it's actually pretty damn good! And it shows on his face too, eyebrows furrowing in surprise before his eyes blow wide open and he sets the taco back down.

“Wow! You are right, they are pretty good! Presentation is bad but they're outstanding. I'm impressed, Dean!”

“I knew you'd like it, Chef. I'll make 'em for you anytime.” Dean points at him and clicks his tongue before shoving his hands in his pockets. They always underestimate him... that's exactly why Dean is gonna win this thing.

“I'll be sure to keep that in mind next time I'm hungover. Now, young lady, what... wait, what does your necklace say?” Jericho asks, eyeing the gold piece of jewelry.

“It says BOSS. Because I'm the BOSS... of the kitchen.” Sasha smiles and raises her eyebrows knowingly behind her glasses.

_ “That's right, I'm Sasha, and I'm gonna be the BOSS of this competition.” She says in a matter of fact tone. “I'm a 28 year old sous chef from Boston and I've been working my ass off since I was just a little girl, lemme tell you. When other girls were fantasizing about their dream weddings, I was fantasizing about my dream restaurant. Cooking is my heart, cooking is my life and my passion is gonna set me apart from everybody else. That is exactly why that restaurant in Appleton is gonna belong to... the BOSS.” _

“Well sweetheart, that's fine and all as long as you know that I'm the real boss.” Jericho says, giving her a knowing look right back.

“Hope you live up to that nickname – your dish?”

“What I have for you today, Chef Jericho, is chipotle honey grilled shrimp. It's my all time favorite and hopefully it'll be yours too.” Sasha says quite confidently.

He just hopes that's right... better presentation than Dean's, at least. He stabs the fork into the shrimp and puts it in his mouth, chewing around a bit before swallowing and taking in the taste. Jericho nods his approval and puts his hands on his hips. “Well. You did live up to the nickname. Perfectly cooked, sauce is a bit overdone but not completely overpowering – well done, Sasha. Well done to you too, Dean, points to both.”

Dean gives a little fist pump of victory before taking his dish back to his team, Sasha flipping her hair back and strutting back to her team with a new skip in her step. These two were a bit cocky but they backed themselves up and that's all that matters.

Jericho only hopes these next 6 contestants will continue to impress.


	2. 12 Chefs Compete (The Intro: Part 2)

 

“So far, I've experienced half of the signature dishes and I have to say, I'm rather impressed with the crop of talent for this season. I hope the next six of you will continue to impress me –  so far we have 2 points for the men and 1 for the women. That in mind, may the next 2 contestants please step forward and present their dishes.” Chef Jericho announces, watching as his next victims step up to the table.

A man with long brown hair and stunning baby blue eyes comes up alongside a fiery redhead with the most incredible biceps you'll ever see and Jericho has to do a double take. Since when did the requirements for Hell's Kitchen change to be only attractive contestants? Attractive, rather... _strong_ looking contestants, actually.

“Did you drop your kids off at their soccer game before coming here?”

The man with the long brown hair chuckles and flips his hair back, shaking his head.

“Hey if this is the look of a soccer mom then I wanna be married to them.” He says in his southern drawl, smiling brightly to show off his pearly whites.

_“Hey y'all, the name's AJ. You can call me Allen, most call me AJ though. I'm uh, a 38 year old executive head chef from Georgia and I've been cookin' for practically my whole life. Friends wanted to go do these series of cooking classes and I said if they could actually get the money, I'd join them so they did, and I went, and I stayed and they left. Cooking's been my life ever since and it's put a roof over my head for me and my four kids. I get paid doin' what I love, can't complain about that.” He smiles earnestly into the camera. “But I wanna move on up. I wanna take charge of one of Chef Jericho's restaurants and prove that I have what it takes to make it in the real big leagues.”_

“Point taken.” Jericho responds, loving that somebody could actually come back at him and in a respectful manner as well. “What's your name, soccer mom?”

“My government given name is Allen but everybody pretty much calls me AJ and I don't care what ya go for.” Allen shrugs.

“AJ it is then. What's your dish?”

“What I got for ya today, Chef, is a dish I prepare in my restaurant all the time. It's a pané chicken with sweet 'n' spicy red pepper sauce.” He lifts up the dish to reveal a very well made chicken with the sauce sweet and spicy just like he says... and just like him!

“Wonderful presentation, best I've seen yet. So you're a professional?” Jericho asks as he cuts into the chicken to take a bite, noting that it was cooked perfectly.

“I am, Chef.”

Jericho just nods as he takes his bite, looking up as he fully takes in the flavor before setting his fork down and stepping back, staying silent for a moment to deliberately raise the suspense in the room.

“You know what I think, AJ?”

“What's that, Chef?” Allen asks, actually a bit nervous. He usually gets nothing but praise for his dishes but this is Chef Jericho and god knows his opinion on food is practically gospel! And Allen's the biggest Christian you'll ever meet!

“I think you've definitely earned the right to be called a professional. Throughout my entire time in Hell's Kitchen, this is the best signature dish I've ever had. Absolutely phenomenal – the red team definitely needs to be keeping you in mind.”

Allen smirks and runs his hand back through his hair, looking back to the women before looking down at Jericho's new favorite dish. Phew, worried over nothing!

“Well, I certainly hope so.”

“Trust me, they should. You, however, young lady, don't seem phased at all.”

The redhead smiles and takes a deep breath, hunching up her shoulders.

“I just let my cooking speak for itself.” Much like Allen had an accent, this woman had an accent as well – a strong, Irish one.

“You think you'll be able to beat his dish?”

“I don't know if I can but I certainly hope it'll at least satisfy you, Chef. As long as I make you happy, I don't care for much else.” She chuckles.

“Well, I like your determination, definitely something to be admired in this competition. What's your name?”

“I'm Becky, Chef.”

_“Hello everybody.” Becky waves into the camera with a dorky smile before putting her clasped hands on her knee crossed over her leg. “My name's Becky and I'm a 29 year old line cook slash bartender originally from Ireland but I moved to Florida when I was just a lil' lass. I live and breathe food, you know? Although I guess you have too, you need it to live...” She purses her lips and shrugs. “Anyways, I'm used to being in the background of things but lately I've been finding myself wanting to branch out and move up, show that I can be a leader and take charge and I think this opportunity would really be great for me.”_

“Lovely to meet you, Becky. What do you have for me today?”

Becky tentatively lifts up her dome, a bit nervous to have one of the greatest chefs judge her dish but she doubts Jericho is gonna roast her like he did with Eva or Roman. “Uh, right Chef, this is a pepper crusted steak with um, roasted asparagus.”

Simple dish but sometimes simple is good. Taking a bite each of the steak and asparagus, Jericho narrows his eyes as he thinks over his decision. “Steak is very nice... seasoned well... but the asparagus seems overcooked.”

“I-I panicked, Chef, I'm deeply sorry.” Becky says, deeply humiliated as well.

“Oh, still a very good dish, don't believe that it's not. You have a lot of potential, Becky. Don't give up – the points, however, must go to the blue team.”

With Becky's spirits lifted and Allen's confidence in himself rising from the praise, they both walk back to their teams feeling a bit better than before.

“Alright, blue team has 3 points now, red still only has 1. While both sides have prepared great dishes so far, the tiniest detail could stop your dish from winning – and ultimately, punish your team... so please be aware of that and continue to be aware of that throughout the competition, please! Now  may the next two chefs come forward, please!” Jericho announces.

The next two to come up is a rather sweet looking redheaded man with the cutest smile you'll ever see and a gorgeous, curvy woman with long, curly black hair and lime green ends. Looks like the red team was full of color this season!

“Holy shit, your hair is bright.”

“Glow in the dark dye, Chef.” She responds with a smile, and then Jericho notices her very colorful pink lips which were pretty bright as well... and her outfit!

_“Heeeeeey, my name is Naomi and I'm a 28 year old dancer turned private party chef from the BEAUTIFUL state of Florida and you know what's gonna set me apart from everyone else? I care about making my dishes look beautiful, I like giving them /color/. Nobody wants to eat something all bland and crusty like the bottom of my shoe, they need something appetizing, that they'll be /happy/ to look at. I mean, I might not have as much experience as some other chefs here, I've only been cooking for about 7 years but I try my hardest to learn and pay attention to the details. So at the very least if my dish sucks, which it WON'T... hopefully... at least, you know, it'll be pretty.”_

“Keep at it, will you? I need a burst of energy like you around here. A _good_ burst of energy.” Jericho tells her, appreciating the new energy the room seems to have as well.

“Oh god, I didn't mean to leave you hanging, man. What's your name?”

The redheaded man grins and holds his hands up.

“Non taken, Chef, I'm kinda used to living in other people's shadows. But I'm Sami, thank you.”

_“Name's Sami, originally from Canada but moved to Florida... seems like most chefs seem to live in Florida. I'm not gonna talk your ear off though, don't worry. It's simple, uh, I'm a 24 year old line cook, just got out of culinary school last year and I'm still learning things, even on the job. Still learning from my mistakes – is it naive to come in here expecting to win the competition? Maybe. But it's nice to have confidence in yourself, I think. And I think my confidence will at least send me to the black jackets.”_

“I appreciate your humbleness. Now what do you have for me today?”

“It's actually kind of an interesting dish.” He says as he lifts the dome off, looking down at what he's prepared.

“This is ostrich with pan seared Brussels sprouts.”

“You know ostrich is very hard to cook, yes?” Jericho asks as he cuts up a piece for himself, inspecting the inside.

“I do, Chef, I know it's taking a risk but you gotta take risks in this competition, right?” Sami asks, anxiety rising as he notices Jericho taking an interest in the meat.

“Very true, good thing you got that down... and good thing you actually _did_ cook it well, I can already tell from looking. I just hope it tastes as good as it looks.” Jericho tells him before putting the piece in his mouth, moving it side to side before swallowing and tasting.

“And just as I suspected... tastes as good as it looks, absolutely wonderful job. Gotta give my hat off to you for taking that risk.” Jericho praises and Sami gives a simple thank you and one of his sweet smiles before Jericho turns his attention to the vibrant personality beside him.

“Now Naomi, what do you have for me?”

“Why thank you for asking, Chef! What I got for you today are my famous lampchops with blackberry chutney annnd blackberry sauce!” Naomi exclaims, confidently taking the dome off – even though on the inside, she was nervous as all hell.

“Just like you, it's _very_ colorful. Definitely you on a plate.” Jericho points out as he cuts into it, dipping it into the sauce before taking a bite himself. Oh _boy,_ was this something.

“Uh, it's very interesting, that's for sure.” Jericho says as he curls his lips together, trying to find out if he likes the dish or not. “It tastes more like grape to me though. Where did you find the blackberries?”

Oh. Oh no. Naomi retraces her steps all the way back until she's met with herself standing in front of the berries and her haphazardly grabbing the nearest container that looked like blackberries – looked being the keyword. Her eyes widen in realization and her hands are placed over her mouth, silently confirming her mistake.

“Oh god. You used _grapes_.” Jericho responds in what seems to be disgust as he eyes the messed up dish.

“I-I meant to use blackberries, chef, I always-”

“Shame because the lamb was cooked perfectly but the sauce really cost you here. Next time, pay more attention to what you're doing, yeah? Points go to the men. Bloody hell.” Not a hard decision. With this said though...

“However, with this point going to the men, this means...”

The women on the red team visibly hunch over in disappointment. They don't need to hear Jericho say it to know that they've already lost but he's going to anyways. Just to really drive the knife in and twist it, make it hurt.

“... this means that the men have officially won the challenge. However, we'll proceed to the last two because I do not wanna rob them a chance to show off their abilities or lack thereof to me. Every chef deserves the chance to prove to me what they possess so will the last two chefs, please come forward.”

Naomi, crestfallen, goes back to her team (and tries to remind herself that at least she _cooked_ something unlike others on her team...) and Sami rejoices inside over cooking the very hard to do ostrich. However, great chefs learn from their mistakes and even those like Eva and Roman have chances to redeem themselves. It's nothing to be sad about.

“I bet he was just saying that.” The husky man with crossed arms mumbles to Sami as he picks up his dish, making Sami roll his eyes.

“We don't have to like each other but at least if we're on a team together, could you _try_ to respect me a little?”

“I don't wanna respect you, you're a backstabber.”

_“What's up, I'm Kevin and I'm a 24 year old line cook originally from the wonderful country of Canada but then moved to Florida to start my cooking career. Graduated from culinary school last year and I definitely have what it takes to win this competition. I was better than most of the students there and I was always very passionate about my food, obviously.” Kevin says as he pats his stomach, however, don't let it fool you. He could bench press Roman if he had too. “I don't think I'm too young to run a restaurant at all when I know I have all the skills necessary. There's a reason why I was selected to take part in Hell's Kitchen, after all. Can't say the same for all the other morons I'll probably be working with.”_

“Fine, don't respect me but at least work with me on this team. If we argue, it's just gonna-”

“Excuse me, gentleman?” Jericho asks aloud, peering his head over to look at the blue team and eyeing the two men.

“Is there a problem? No sabotage going on, is there?”

Before Sami can reply, Kevin speaks up before him.

“No, Chef, not at all. Just having a little creative discussion here with my good teammate.” He pats Sami's back with a fake smile before walking up with his dish, the last remaining woman on the red team walking up as well. Unlike Kevin, she was very short and slender, sporting long blonde hair up in two big pigtails with red ends and wonderfully done makeup.

“Uh, right, just be sure to keep those creative discussions to a minimum, yeah? I don't wanna see much of that in my kitchen, I want you all to be professional. So promise me, you'll be on your best behavior, Mr... ”

“Kevin, Chef. And I totally understand that, it won't happen again.” Kevin reassures him with a smile, although Sami is in the back rolling his eyes at the insincerity of his words.

“Lemme take your mind off with my dish though.” He starts. “What this is, is a sesame crusted tuna with ginger cream sauce.”

Jericho raises his eyebrows as he studies the larger man, taking a deep breath before he begins to slice into the tuna.

“I'll be keeping an eye on you, you know. No Hell's Bitches 2.0.” He says before taking a bite and his eyes immediately widen as the hotness of the sauce spreads throughout his mouth, causing him to swallow fast and give a quick cough.

“God, that sauce is hotter than Satan's asscrack! It at least helps with the slight dryness of the tuna but god, man. There is such a thing as _too_ hot sauce.” Jericho tells him, taking a big gulp of the glass of water next to him. Phew, that'll at least calm his throat. Hopefully this pretty, petite blonde here will have something to ease him...

As Kevin is fuming inside due to Jericho not approving of his clearly amazing dish, the perky blonde is quick with the charm before Jericho can get out a word.

“Hi there, I'm Alexa! My dish has noooo hot sauce so you don't have to worry about that, nothing burning your mouth! Hopefully this'll ease you up!” Alexa tells him with a charming smile as she lifts her dome to show her dish.

“I'm Alexa.” Alexa starts, batting her eyelashes. “Annnd I'm a 22 year old culinary student from Ohio, so I don't have much experience but I do have the drive and I think that's just as good. I'm willing to learn and also...” She hums and twirls a strand of her blonde hair. “I'm pretty. I like to think that'll do me some good in this competition. I can always fall back on that if I have to but more than anything I wanna prove I'm just as good as everybody else, even though I'm still in school. That shouldn't be considered a disadvantage against me.”

“Now _this_ is a herb crusted salmon with crab pasta. I loooove sea food.”

“You and me, both. God, I hope you're right about it easing me up.” Jericho says as he takes another drink as a precaution before going ahead with the dish.

And thank god too because this is just what he needs – not hot at all! He hums to show his appreciation for the dish and nods before setting his fork down.

“Ah, excellent work.” Jericho muses while he still chomps down. “The salmon and crab come together well, cooked well, and seasoned well. It's very well, all around. Sad to say your team lost because that, madame, is a fine dish. Well done.”

Kevin rolls his eyes as he walks back to the blue team, Alexa smiling brightly as she hops back over to her red team. Though the red team might have lost, she can at least bask in Jericho's praise of her dish. Not many culinary students can say they've had Chef Jericho try and actually _like_ one of their dishes! Uh, Bayley aside...

“So like I said earlier, the men have clearly won. But god... look at those kitchens! Look at that mess!” Jericho exclaims as he motions to the back, everybody turning to look at the mess they caused in those kitchens. Dishes piled up in sinks, messy cutting boards, utensils strewn everywhere the eyes can see and food still in pans – an absolute pigsty.

“Ladies... your punishment is to make those kitchens look absolutely perfect. As perfect as _me._ It's gotta look perfect for the opening of Hell's Kitchen which, by the way, opens tonight.” However, everybody knew it would be opening tonight walking in here. Or they should, anyways, with the surprises Hell's Kitchen often throws.

“Now gentleman, winning a challenge comes with great rewards. You guys will be getting a takeout but not just ANY takeout...  I'm talking about a very special dinner from my restaurant, the Lionheart Cafe, and you'll all get to indulge and enjoy. Drink it in, men!” Jericho exclaims, the men hooting and hollering and seeming to have form an instant bond (Kevin and Sami aside) while the women look on in disgust.

“Before we leave, I must introduce all of you to your sous chefs. For the blue team, you'll all get the amazing, the instant kitchen classic, Christian, to run the blue kitchen.”

Christian nods and gives a silent wave to the chefs, his eyes staying on one particular chef – the chef with the very stunning baby blue eyes, to be exact, and it's not a glance that goes by unnoticed. Allen feels his nerves rising in his body and he gives Christian a polite smile before averting his gaze down to the ground, trying to hide the blush on his face because _damnit, southern men like him don't blush._

“And for the red team, you lovely ladies will get a new sous chef this season – meet the equally lovely, 100% sure to satisfy, Trish, the winner of season 1.” Trish's expression is stoic and tough, hardening over the years of leading one of Jericho's restaurants. Don't worry though, she's still the same, bubbly, cheery blonde deep down! Even if she's a brunette now.

“Trish, Christian, go ahead and show these contestants the way.” Jericho instructs as he watches the the sous chefs move through the kitchen and towards the dorms first with the contestants following after their footsteps, animatedly talking among each other.

He grins as he watches the conversation play out, going back to Allen's dish from earlier so he can continue taking bites. No sense letting it go to waste!

“Man, it's gonna be an interesting season this time around...”

 


	3. 12 Chefs Compete: Dinner Service

 

And so the men will be treated to a 3 course meal on the patio of Lionheart Cafe, where they'll enjoy fine cuisine while the women clean up after their mess – seemingly emulating typical domestic life outside Hell's Kitchen.

“Cheers, everybody!” Jericho exclaims, all of the men giving a resounding “Cheers!” back as they clink their glasses together and enjoy a sip of rich wine and intelligent conversation. While the men are treated to a little bubbling wine before dinner service, the women are treated to a different kind of bubbling... that is, bubbling suds in the sink as they wash dirty dishes and pans.

“C'mon guys, you can't be afraid to get a little wet!” Becky exclaims as she scrubs furiously at the pan with Bayley, a few of the other women helping out as best as they can. Excluding Eva who seems to be watching it all from afar, clearly disgusted at the mess in the kitchen. No wonder why she chose to stick with a salad. Thankfully the women get a little break with dinner as Trish comes into the kitchen to rest a silver dome on top the island counter.

“Here's your dinner guys, eat up!” Trish exclaims as she lifts the dome to reveal plain turkey sandwiches underneath.

The women look back at the sandwiches with blank stares, some contemplating if this is even worth it at all while Bayley hops on over with big smiles to take a bite out of one of the sandwiches.

_Bayley looks back and forth with a shrug before giving a slight chuckle. “I just really like turkey sandwiches, that's all.”_

At least one of these women can enjoy their punishment! And as she munches down on a simple sandwich, the men are munching down on...

“Man, I don't even know what this is but this is money.” Dean says with an approving moan as he continues to dig into probably the fanciest meal he'll ever has in his life.

_“Seriously, it was good. Like, it's just a bunch of explosion of flavors in your mouth and... seriously, that's REAL cooking.” Dean says._

The men smile as they all raise their glasses for another toast, giving one more cheer before taking yet another sip. While the men might be enjoying a luxurious reward, the ladies are still hard at work even after getting done with their cleaning. They return upstairs to find big binders on all of their beds, each binder sporting the same message in each of the plastic covers.

“Be sure to study hard so you'll be ready for dinner service tomorrow night. Sweet dreams.” Sasha reads aloud before opening the binder, leafing through the pages with a sigh.

_“So waiting for all of us on this bed was a big binder of ALL of the recipes which we need to have memorized by tomorrow. We only have not even a DAY to memorize it... but I guess that's why it's called Hell's Kitchen and not Heaven's Kitchen.” Naomi chuckles. “Definitely no way I'm getting sleep tonight though.”_

The women hit the books so they can be prepared for tomorrow's dinner service, which can not be said for the men. Instead of hitting the books, Dean hits...

“AWWW YEAH!” He exclaims as he cannonballs into the hot tub, rising up from the water to push his brown hair out of his face.

“YEEEEEAH! DEAN IN THIS BIH!” Roman exclaims. “We're about to get CRUNK! Yeah! Now gimme some more wine...”

While Roman continues to drink wine throughout the rest of the night along with his fellow teammates (Allen being the lone exception, who doesn't drink and instead decides to study), the women continue to study throughout the rest of the night and are much more prepared for dinner service than their male counterparts.

* * *

 

The next day on the opening of Hell's Kitchen, both teams arrive from their dorms and into the kitchens where Christian immediately lays out pairs of fancy, expensive looking knives.

“I got your knife kits for you, everybody, compliments of the chef. Thank him later.”

As everybody comes up to take a look at the knives and collect their kits, raving about the quality, Christian rests his hand on Allen's shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze before making his way back into the dorms. Allen looks back just in time to see Christian looking back at him and he wonders if there's something more to these looks or touches or if he's just being paranoid. He blinks a few times and swallows before he feels somebody clapping a hand on his shoulder, nowhere near as gentle as Christian did it.

“Hey, dude, can you help me peel the potatoes? I had a little bit too much to drink last night.” Seth chuckles, totally oblivious to Allen's internal crisis at hand.

Allen is quick to hide his nervousness though and he rolls his eyes playfully at Seth's command before shooing him off. “Yeah, yeah, I'll help your hungover ass peel.” Maybe if Allen had decided to drink last night, he wouldn't be thinking about Christian right now.

“Seriously man, thanks. I appreciate it.” And Seth was rarely appreciative but Allen was a veteran when it came to cooking so if anybody _had_ to tell Seth what to do, it might as well be him or Chef Jericho.

_“Yeah uh... we all had a bit too much to drink last night.” Roman muses as he rubs his chin. “Well, some of us are good enough for tonight's service but others, ehh, ya kinda gotta watch out for them.”_

_“Somethin' is in that champagne, man, and it wasn't good either.” Dean says, rubbing his head. “Head's been killing me ever since this morning – but it's not gonna stop me from kicking ass in tonight's dinner service. No hangover is gonna stop that either.”_

“Hey uh, why didn't you drink with us last night?” Seth asks in genuine interest, looking down at the shorter man. “I mean, we had fun without you but we also could've had _a lot_ more fun with you.”

Allen just shrugs. “I dunno, drinking just ain't my thing. Never has been. Don't really like the taste of it either. To each their own but for me? Nah.”

_“Drinking's just always been something I've never really liked too much.” Allen admits, rubbing the side of his neck. “And uh, my dad, he'd always drink a lot and when he drinks...” He shakes his head and chuckles bitterly. “Well, let's just say it was never pretty whenever he got drunk. So I've seen what drinking can do to people and I'd rather it not happen to me.”_

The men are a bit slow in getting started but the prepared ladies are rearing and ready to kick ass.

“Y'all ready to whoop some ass tonight, ladies?” Alexa calls out, the other women giving a loud cheer in response which brings a look over from the men's kitchen – the men are a tad worried but they won't let that show.

_“No. God, no, I'm not scared of the men by any means.” Alexa scoffs, flipping her hair back. “They might have more experienced chefs on their team but us girls have heart and we're determined. Men always think they can do better than the women but no, not this time. This time, the red team is gonna prove them wrong. Just they wait and see.”_

* * *

 

With the high quality crop of talent this season, Chef Jericho has high hopes for dinner service tonight.

“I'm expecting a phenomenal service tonight. I strongly believe you guys will continue to impress me tonight and I hope you all won't let me down – understood?” Jericho asks to a loud “YES, CHEF!” in response.

“Good! Let's get moving!”

However, minutes from opening, Jericho's optimism is quickly shattered when he comes across a plate of poorly done chocolate souffles sitting on the red kitchen pass.

“Oh my god, who cooked these?” Jericho exclaims, inspecting them before turning to the red kitchen. “Hellooooo, excuse me, who cooked these?”

“Oh, that was me, chef!” Eva exclaims back.

“C'mere you.” Jericho says as he squints his eyes, beckoning Eva over with his finger and showing two of the fondant mugs to the redhead.

“Why are these all cooked? Why aren't they rising either, they're just there halfway in the mug...” He trails off as he looks into them again, wondering what's so hard about cooking souffles. Christ, even his daughter knows how to make souffles! Surprisingly, that wasn't the biggest issue right now. The issue was cooking food before the restaurant even opens. Especially when it's _dessert_.

“Madame... you put these in the oven when the order comes up. We haven't even opened yet and you _cooked them._ ” Jericho says as he stares at Eva, completely flabbergasted.

_“Yeah. We're completely screwed.” Becky says._

“God, look at that! It's like a fucking hockey puck!” Jericho says as he scoops the souffle out, the dessert instantly falling to the ground with a thud. “So it's overcooked as well! You overcooked the souffles, which aren't even rising, _and we haven't even opened!_ ”

“I-I'm sorry, Chef, I didn't know why they were rising. But next time, when desserts are ordered, I was thinking maybe rubbing a little sugar and butter, maybe some cocoa powder on the rim will help it to rise.” Eva tells him, rubbing her red lips together as she waits for Jericho to respond.

Instead, she's met with Jericho's thousand yard stare. A moment later, Jericho's eyes narrow again and he shakes his head.

“What?”

“I-I was gonna rub a little sugar and butter around the rim, maybe some cocoa powder next time I start them to help it rise... Chef.”

The red team stares at Eva in unison, already knowing who they're gonna nominate for elimination later on – that is, if they lose dinner service tonight.

_“Doesn't... doesn't she know that's the first thing you do when you cook souffles?” Bayley asks, looking back and forth._

Jericho is now at a lost for words and he hides his head in his hands as he walks away from the disaster happening before him. All optimism is totally lost and it's now the end of the world.

_Dinner service hasn't even started yet._

“Oh god... oh my god.” Jericho sighs as he walks up to the front of the pass, looking up to John Cena.

“John Cena? Open Hell's Kitchen, please, let's go.”

John gives a thumbs up and a reassuring smile to Jericho before walking away to the doors. “You got it, Chef!”

* * *

 

“... first orders of the night, Chef!” Cena says as he hands the tickets to Jericho, who immediately goes over to the red kitchen.

“Thank you, let's get this started. Alright, red team, here we are! First ticket! 1 risotto, 1 scallops, 1 spaghetti.” Again, this gets a “YES, CHEF!” from the women until Eva speaks up.

“I'm sorry, Chef, can you repeat that?”

“What? Can I repeat that? Okay, lemme repeat it – go fuck yourself.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“God... 'can I repeat that', is she fucking stupid? Stupid idiot.” Jericho says as he moves on over to the blue kitchen, shaking his head.

“Alright, blue team, come here! First ticket! Good luck, table 41, 1 scallops, 2 risotto and their entree, 1 new y-” Jericho, however, is cut off by Kevin yelling the order back at one of his teammates.

“Hey you little rat, I don't shout over you when you're talking. I got 10 seconds to the window to call this-”

“I'm sorry, Chef, I'm sorr-” This time, Jericho cuts Kevin off.

“Alright, c'mere you.” Jericho beckons Kevin over with a finger. “C'mon, big mouth, c'mere, read out the fucking ticket, let's go! Go on, call out the ticket!” He exclaims as he walks away from the pass with Kevin quick to come over.

He clears his throat and picks up the ticket, looking out at his team and ready to lead. So much for not disappointing Chef Jericho.

“Alright guys, you ready?” We need 1 scallop, 2 risotto, that's for the appetizers, and for entrees...”

As Kevin continues to call out the order, Jericho is back in the red kitchen to already come across a problem.

“Alexa, why are you already giving me garnish?” Jericho asks as he looks down at the mashed potatoes at the pass.

“I'm sorry, Chef, I went a little bit too early.”

“What do you think garnish goes with?!”

Alexa wets her now dry lips, swallowing her nerves back. “They go with the entrees, Chef.”

“Right, and are the entrees ready?”

“N-No, Chef.”

“So why are you sending them up already? We haven't even sent out the first fucking entree! _We're on appetizers!_ ”

“I'm sorry, Chef, it won't happen again...” Alexa says, but Jericho is already furious. It's too late.

“Fucking hell, Alexa...”

Trish steps in though to offer some advice. “Come on, guys, work on your timing and communicate with each other, I wanna see some teamwork!”

* * *

 

Back in the blue kitchen, Sami is ready with his first appetizer.

“Alright, scallops coming up to the pass!”

Jericho takes a look at the scallops but there is a big problem...

“Great, scallops are here but where's the risotto? WHERE'S THE RISOTTO?”

“I have my risotto in hand, Chef!” Kevin exclaims as he flips the appetizer in his pan.

“Kevin, I told you it was coming up to the pass.” Sami says, crossing his arms over his chest. Great, he and Kevin are running into problems already... on the first dinner service.

_“Come on, it's not that hard just... listen to me and make some risotto.” Sami chuckles, throwing his hands up. “I don't get why that's so hard for him!”_

“Coming up with the risotto right now!” Kevin says as he places the pan on the pass, walking away thinking he's done a job well done but then...

“Stop!” Jericho says, sliding his hands across each other to motion it.

“No fucking chance this is going out! It doesn't even _look_ like a risotto! It's like rice pudding! Just look at it! Look at this!” Jericho says as he slams the pan down, making his way over to Kevin.

“If you don't start showing me you care about the fucking customers, I-”

“I do care, Chef!”

“No, let me finish, if you don't start showing me you care about my customers, then I'm gonna start showing you that I don't care about you. Do you understand what I am saying to you right now?”

“Yes, Chef!”

Jericho rolls his eyes and goes back up to the past, putting his hands on his hips. “Does nobody here know how to make a fucking risotto?”

“Don't worry, Chef, I got it, I got it.” Seth says as he steps into the appetizer station, completely confident in his abilities.

_“Please, you're...” Kevin chuckles and raises his eyebrows. “You're gonna have Seth replace me? That egomaniac? I could kick his skinny ass with a blindfold and a broken knee. Get outta here."_

* * *

 

While Seth fires up a new risotto, Sasha is eager to deliver her food to Chef Jericho.

“How's the scallops, can I go? Can I go up with it right now?” Sasha calls out and despite the loud “No!” coming from Becky, she's already going up to the pass with her spaghetti. Becky can see her life flashing before her eyes.

“Oh fuck me... so it looks like we're ready for the second table thanks to Sasha. We're still on the first so why are you giving me the second?!” Jericho asks, giving Sasha a heated stare as he waits for an answer.

“I-I got ahead of myself, Chef, I apologize, I'll go one at a time.”

“Good, because I don't want you doing two things at once! Forget it, just focus on the first ticket, Sasha!”

“Yes, Chef!”

_“So Sasha seemed to be a bit easily flustered and I told her it wasn't time to put it up. We don't have the time to sit here and mess up twice, especially in front of Chef Jericho...” Becky points out._

“Coming up, Chef!” Becky says as she comes up with her food, which at least gets those first batch of appetizers out of the way.

* * *

 

Back in the blue kitchen, Seth has delivered his risotto for Jericho's approval.

“God, who made this risotto?!” Jericho asks in the same tone he always uses as he looks around and Seth is understandably worried by his question – yes, Seth is worried.

“Me, Chef...”

“This risotto is fucking delicious!”

Seth is completely relieved to learn that it's praise (first of the night!) and after humbly thanking Jericho, he proceeds to fist pump a few times before cheering for himself. “Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about, I'm the fuckin' architect of this-”

“HEY, hey, make 10 more like that and finish service and maybe you'll get to celebrate like you're at a fuckin' mosh pit. But don't start pissing yourself now!”

Seth quickly shuts up and ducks his head. “Yes, Chef...”

* * *

 

It's now been an hour and a half into dinner service and with Seth's help, appetizers are flying out of the kitchen and making its way out to the blue diners. Meanwhile, the red kitchen has moved on to entrees and Eva is bringing her cod up to the pass.

“Oh my goodness, what's she done to this?” Jericho asks as he walks up to the steel counter, slamming the plate down.

“Red team! There's no garnish _anywhere_! And look!” He points to the cod and throws his hands up in exasperation before grabbing the plate and holding it up to show the women. “It's burnt!” With that said, he throws the plate into the trash.

Eva's future in Hell's Kitchen is looking as dark as her fish.

_“Man she...she REALLY messed up on that cod.” Alexa says. “It looked more like... like tar instead of actual fish.”_

“Eva, c'mere... get out of my sight, sit off to the side. Trish, get her peeling onions, garlic, just anything that doesn't have to do with a stove.”

Trish comes over to the chef's table where a now deflated Eva sits, setting down bowls of onions and garlic on the table. “There, at least you won't be able to burn any of that shit.”

_“I was... absolutely useless.” Eva says, looking down at the ground dejected._

* * *

 

Jericho walks over to the blue kitchen and his optimism has faded away completely. He's given up hope for any sort of great dinner service and he's working through the motions at this point but Seth was at least able to get the appetizers out in a quick, efficient manner.

“Come on, let's get fucking started on these entrees!”

Like the appetizers, Seth is ready to lead his team again with the entrees and more importantly, ready to show off more of his skills.

_“Please, we're not losing tonight when I'm here.” Seth chuckles with a shrug. “That's obvious, I'm like the glue of this team. Just ask the pope. See, not even a few drinks can stop me.”_

“Come on, guys, let's get this all out together! I'm walking with the wellingtons right now!” He calls out as he sends the wellingtons up to the pass.

Seth hears Jericho asking who cooked them this time and he's more ready to say it's him this time around, more prepared to hear a good answer from the Head Chef as well... who knew he'd be right?

“That wellington was absolutely perfect!”

“Yeees, Chef, thank you!”

_Seth spreads his arms out and gives a smug smile. “What can I tell ya? Architect of the kitchen.”_

_“You know, uh, I was kinda worried with everybody drinking last night that we'd have a slow dinner service but it's going pretty well, actually.” Allen remarks, looking up at the ceiling. “Don't think I'm gonna start calling Seth the architect anytime soon though. That'd be like asking people to call me the phenomenal one or... face that runs the place or something.”_

Seth's surprising leadership has helped the blue team get out entrees as quickly as the appetizers and it gives Jericho a bit of hope... at least with the men, that is.

* * *

 

In the red kitchen, Sasha has taken Eva's place on the fish station, desperate to help out and redeem herself in Jericho's eyes.

“Scallops, where are they? Hurry up!”

Sasha is very quick to take her scallops up to the pass, exclaiming that they're in the window before shuffling back to her station. She's expecting good news but she should know by now that in Hell's Kitchen, good news is a miracle.

“C'mere, Sasha, god, just touch these...”

“Well uh, they are a bit springy, Chef.” Sasha replies as she touches the scallops which are admittedly, quite springy but probably not something you wanna say to the Chef.

“They're... they're what?”

“Springy!

“And you think they're ready?”

Sasha doesn't know why but she completely freezes up, at a total lost for words. She doesn't believe she's ever fucked up this majorly in her cooking career before and she wonders why she had to do it tonight, on what might as well be the most important night in her career.

“Okay. You know what? Go over there and sit down with Eva. Enjoy your springy scallops!” Jericho says as he roughly hands Sasha the scallops back.

“Bon appetit!”

And so there were two chefs at the table now, the redhead and the pinkhead. But there was definitely gonna be no lady bonding tonight. Instead, they'd be bonding with their poorly made food.

“Come ON, I need two scallops! It shouldn't be this hard!”

Jericho is now looking for Bayley to take charge and rescue the dying fish station but he should know better by now.

“Come heeeere, Bayley! I go from springy scallops to absolute boiled bits of shit!”

_“Yeah... this isn't a good night for us.” Bayley sighs._

“Go on, then, Bayley. Sit with the rest of the stupid idiots over in stupid idiotville.”

As Bayley goes on over to sit down with the others, she realizes Hell's Kitchen was a lot more than she had planned for. She knew it was gonna be tough but she had fire, she figured she could push through it. Although it seems tough now, she knows she's gonna get better – everybody has bad nights, right?

And everybody so far seems to have a bad night on the fish station, with the service stalled two hours in.

* * *

 

Meanwhile in the blue kitchen, Sami is ready to wow Jericho with his scallops – but unless you're Seth, that shouldn't be something to ready yourself for.

“Saaaami, scallops are overcooked. Let's get one more in, yeah? Make sure that pan is hot, yeah?”

_“We are NOT fucking going down on scallops. Fuck that. Not this early in the game – get your shit together, and keep it moving.” Kevin says, shaking his head._

“God, these are _boiled!_ I want these scallops to feel like the tip of somebody's shriveled dick, come on!”

_“You know, it's a lot harder when you're in Hell's Kitchen, uh, you have a lot more pressure on you. It's a different environment, standards are higher, and you're also trying to impress the best chef there is so...” Sami blows out a breath. “It's tough, man.”_

With the blue team coming to a halt as well, there's no food coming out from either kitchens. What was a promising start from at least the blue team looks to be a facade and Jericho makes a note to himself to not come into the next dinner service with optimism.

* * *

 

“Cod, duck, lamb, wellington, how long?” Jericho asks, learning from Becky that it's gonna be five minutes. However, entrees and garnish go out together and Alexa doesn't respond.

“Alexa, hey, are you with me? That garnish needs to be up here 30 seconds before the entrees! Got it?!”

“Guys, come on, just ONE table...” Trish pleads, looking back to the women with an equally pleading expression.

While Trish is pleading for some effort, Eva is pleading for a better wine selection as her teammates in stupid idiotville were all given wine to help digest the food they were forced to eat.

“I can't get a pinot noir or something?” Eva asks, looking at her wine glass quite bored.

This, of course, doesn't go unnoticed by Jericho who motions to the table before crossing his arms over his chest.

“There's your fuckin' teamwork right there, the three horsewoman. Three horsewoman of stupidity.” He sighs before going over to check on the wellingtons Becky has prepared.

“God, look at it...”

“I-I'm sorry, Chef, I apologize.” Becky says, immediately taking the blame and ready to start a new one until...

“Wellington is cooked perfectly! First one of the fucking night!”

As Jericho walks past Becky with the wellington, she looks back at him with a surprised expression before mumbling a confused thank you. Becky doesn't know whether to be relieved or scared.

“Alexa, I got a wellington cooked perfectly so where's the fucking garnish? God, the meat is cooked _perfectly_ and now it's so stone cold, it's about to do a stunner! Fuck me!” Jericho says as he's forced to throw the perfect wellington away.

Becky closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as she tries to calm herself. At the very least, she got a compliment from Chef Jericho and she uses that to motivate her to make her next hopefully perfect wellington.

* * *

 

Done with his business for now in the red kitchen, Jericho goes back over to the blue kitchen to read off more orders.

“1 sea bass, 1 chicken, and 1 wellington!”

Sami is now looking to redeem himself on the fish station again but it looks like Kevin is putting those plans to a halt as he's immediately making his way to his ex best friend.

“It's okay, I got the fish, I'll cook it.”

“It's cool, man, I got it. Kevin, no, listen, it's _my_ station, thank you, but I got it.” Sami says as he tries to butt into his station again but Kevin pushes him out of the way to add oil onto the pan.

_“Clearly Sami doesn't got this and he's certainly not a better cook than I am so I wanted to take charge to impress Chef Jericho – I HAVE to impress him.” Kevin says with conviction._

“Sami, Sami, that's _your_ station, why is he cooking the fish?!”

“I don't know what he's doing, Chef! He just came over here and grabbed it!”

“Well I was _gonna_ cook it for you because we're all a team, right?” Kevin asks rather condescendingly, not a good thing to do in front of Chef Jericho.

“KEVIN! We have a 6 top waiting for appetizers and you're cooking FISH!”

“Okay, okay, I'll put the spaghetti-”

“Would you _please_ shut the _hell_ up and go sit at the chef's table?!” Jericho instructs as he points over to the side, Kevin treading over to the table with a pout and plopping down on the seat.

He thinks about how much he hates Sami for the 26th time that night.

* * *

 

As Kevin spends time in the penalty box, Becky from the red team delivers another perfect wellington which just needs the garnish from Alexa to go alongside.

Except the potatoes are burnt in Alexa's pan.

“That is TWICE in a row now, wellingtons cooked to perfection, and we can't even send a table together! Because NOBODY is together! Smooth fucking service my ass!”

As Jericho continues to yell at the red team, John Cena begins to notice a disturbing trend in the dining room and he must be the bearer of bad news. With a sigh, he walks up to the pass and coughs to get Jericho's attention and boy if looks could kill, Cena would not be standing here right now.

Or maybe he still would because he's John Cena.

“Excuse me, Chef, the tables are leaving.”

Jericho rolls his tongue around inside his mouth and scrunches his face together in annoyance before whipping around to face the three stupid idiots, motioning to his now abandoned dining room.

“You see that? All of the tables have already left! And you know something else? Not one fucking entree has left this fucking kitchen! Not ONE!”

But a disastrous dinner service wasn't anything new. Chef Jericho being disappointed in the majority of his chefs wasn't new.

“God, just shut it down!” Jericho shouts, getting the attention of the men as well in the process.

“Yeah, you all heard me, shut it down! I'm putting you all out of your misery! Service has gone to shit and all of you seem to have gone to shit so we're shutting this _shit_ down.”

And that marks the terrible, tumultuous end of the first dinner service.


	4. 12 Chefs Compete: Eliminations

 

“This for me, has been the most disappointing opening ever.” Jericho says in a solemn voice, although it might not have been loud, all the frustration was still laced in his words.

“Sami, I wasn't worried about the scallops, I was worried about the timing of them going out.

“Well the risotto kept coming back, what did you-”

“Shut up, don't throw me under the bus.” Kevin butts in, and the next words he and Sami share are a blur as they bicker with each other in front of all the other chefs. Unsurprisingly, this gives Jericho a migraine.

Jericho rubs his forehead in an attempt to get rid of the pain before running his hands down his face and looking over at one of the only two chefs that did great in tonight's service.

“Becky... you stood there with your pants down getting absolutely fucked every second. How'd you feel?”

“Honestly, Chef? I was irate.” Becky starts. “I sent up the same ol' shit thousands of times and over a thousand times, I waited for my sides. Never in my life have I ever had to wait for sides.”

All Jericho can do is nod. There were a few chefs like Becky who did good tonight and didn't deserve to be shoved in with the rest of the chaos. Herself, Naomi, Roman, AJ, Dean, Seth... but they weren't the ones that had to be worried about going home.

“Well the losing team tonight, with absolutely 0 entrees leaving the kitchen, is the red team. So all of you go back upstairs, work as a team for once, and come to a consensus of which two of you are up on the chopping block tonight.”

With these final words, the chefs proceed to head back to their dorms to deliberate over who to send home. Thankfully, this was the easiest decision in the competition.

* * *

 

“So does anybody wanna speak?” Becky asks

“I should go up tonight.” Bayley says, wiping her eyes. “I-I completely messed it up and there's no excuse. I let you guys down and I left Chef Jericho down so put me up there. If I'm meant to say here, then I will and if I'm not, then I'm not.”

Bayley was always the humble one, always the hardest on herself for any mistakes. It was a quality to be admired and a quality some chefs didn't seem to have.

Eva shrugs nonchalantly at Bayley's suggestion, continuing to check her nails. “Fine with me.”

“Okay, hold up, that's _ fine _ with you? You messed up the souffles tonight, girl. We didn't even _ open _ and you messed up the souffles. On top of that, you clearly don't wanna be here.” Naomi scoffs, watching as Eva looked up from her nails to give Naomi the most scathing look in the world – what she thinks is scathing, anyways.

“Listen. I had a bad night. It happens. I shouldn't be judged based off of _ one _ bad night. When I get grounded, then I'll do better and I'll be able to kick a lot more ass.”

“Well, I didn't see that shit tonight!” Naomi laughs. “Girl, you lost it tonight.”

“So we agree that Eva's going up for elimination? Okay.” Becky says with a prompt nod. “Who else?”

“Like Bayley said, herself. And she doesn't have much experience as any of us do.” Sasha says, holding her hands up like she meant no ill will.

“Didn't you get sent to stupid idiotville tonight?” Alexa says, narrowing her eyes at the self proclaimed boss. “Shouldn't you be sent up there?”

“Okay, listen, pixie fairy, I know I had a bad service. I'm the first one to admit that but Bayley should be going up there. No offense but she _ just _ got out of culinary school and she thinks she can run a restaurant? Nuh uh.” Sasha scoffs, flipping her hair back behind her shoulder. “Bayley, it's nothing personal, I just don't think you have what it takes yet. If somebody else but Bayley had to go up, it should be Alexa considering she kept fucking up the garnish. How do you fuck that up?”

“Well _excuse me_  but I don't-”

“GUYS.” Bayley interrupts. There's nothing Bayley hates more than arguing.

“I-I get that.” Bayley says. “Maybe I don't have what it takes but I'm not gonna stop fighting. We're just gonna have to see what Chef Jericho says because it's his decision in the end.”

Becky blows out a breath and looks off to the side, not ready to get into a confrontation with anyone tonight. She just wanted to get these eliminations over with. “Fine. Bayley and Eva are going up tonight. I'm with Bayley though, the decision is ultimately up to Jericho. We'll see.”

* * *

 

Seth cackles annoyingly in front of his teammates, everybody but Kevin and Sami who were probably fighting in the back right now - nobody's ready to deal with that mess yet.

“Did you guys see me on the service tonight? I was fucking _fantastic_ , did better than most of you. Chef Jericho loves me, guys, I'm tellin' ya.” Seth praises himself, clearly hyped on confidence and just a bit of narcissism.

Dean rolls his eyes along with Roman and looks the two toned man up and down. “Do we gotta deal with this from you every service? You jerkin' your own cock because Jericho praised you a few times?”

_ “Yeah, I dunno, Seth just annoys me.” Dean says. “He thinks he's all that, thinks he's like God's gift to cooking all because he had one great night. It's like, tone it down a little, ya know? It's like that bleach is getting to his head.” _

“Listen, PAL, you're just mad that you didn't do as great as me tonight!” Seth instantly fires back. “You didn't do fuckin' shit, neither you or Roman did!”

“You mean we didn't do anything to get noticed. I mean, Jericho didn't compliment or insult us at all tonight.” Roman points out rather calmly, leaning forward in his seat. “Me, Dean, and AJ, we all did good tonight. He singled you out because you saved a station from going down while us three were just doing our jobs.”

_ “It's not that I don't like Seth, cause I do, I just...” Roman rolls his lips back and furrows his eyebrows together. “I just think he's a bit full of himself, that's all.” _

“I'm the ARCHITECT of this kitchen, I did fucking meat well! I did appetizers well! I did fish well, god damnit! If I wanna fuckin' talk about how well I did then I will and you guys can just fuckin' suck it up!” Seth shouts to his teammates.

_ “Okay, REALLY full of himself.” _

“Yeah, Seth, you did good tonight.” Allen says, but he's not really paying attention to what's going on. He's sort of off in his own little world and it's something Seth takes notice too.

“Hey, yo, Allen, you're not gonna make fun of me like these idiots are?” Seth asks, looking at the southern man curiously. “What's up with you, man?”

Allen raises his eyebrows and looks up to Seth with a shrug before getting up from the couch.

“Nothing.” He lies.

Allen had a great service tonight but he was definitely on edge more than usual with Christian up at the pass. He might not have gotten compliments from Chef Jericho on his food (besides the rare one here and there) but Christian made sure to tell Allen how perfectly cooked his food was at every chance. Not to mention the looks he'd send Allen's way, the times he'd walk past and “accidentally” bump into him.

Allen wouldn't think too much about it if Christian gave the same treatment to everyone else.

“You did good tonight, you deserve to gloat about it a little. Wouldn't start calling myself the architect but-”

“I AM the Arch-”

“Shhh, hush, yeah, listen guys, we should probably get down to the dining room for elimination. Before Jericho kills us.” Allen brings up, the other guys quick to agree with him as they set their argument with Seth aside for another day so they can make their way to the dining room to watch eliminations take place.  
  
At least they were all safe for one night.

* * *

 

The blue team are sitting off to the side as the red team make their way back into the empty dining room, Chef Jericho standing in the middle with a concentrated look as he waits for the women to say goodbye to one of their very own.

“Right, ladies, nice of you to show up...  I hope you all came to a consensus.”

“We did, Chef.” Becky confirms. It was a quick deliberation, not a hard choice at all.

“I'm glad. Becky, first nominee and why?”

“Right, the first nominee, Chef, is Eva.” Becky replies with no hesitation. That was easy. “She really struggled tonight, she talked back to you, and she didn't even know how to make a souffle – there's also an apparent lack of communication from her.”

“Makes sense, yeah. Annnd your second nominee and why?”

“Um... the second nominee, Chef, is...” Becky licks her lips and takes a deep breath, making quick looks at Bayley and Sasha as she contemplates who deserves to go home more.

“Yes, your second nominee is...?”

“... the second nominee is Sasha, Chef.”

Jericho nods and rubs his chin, looking over at Sasha who was clearly annoyed.

“Do you agree with this, Sasha?”

“Absolutely not! I would've chose Bayley to go up there, Chef.” Sasha defends herself, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “She doesn't have as much experience as I do and she fell down hard tonight. She doesn't have what it takes.”

All Jericho does is nod, taking her reasoning in. And although it makes sense, he's still the one who calls the final shots.

“I see...well then. Eva, step forward. And Sasha, step forward, please.”

So much for being safe. With a sigh, Sasha steps forward with Eva, who didn't seem to have a care in the world.

“Eva, why should you stay in Hell's Kitchen?”

“Um, okay, well... I have passion for cooking. Being in the kitchen is fun annnnd I work my ass off every time I come into one. I still have a lot to learn but then again, so do other people in this competition.”

“Like learning how to cook a souffle?”

Eva huffs and flips her hair back, putting on a pensive smile. “Yes, Chef.”

“Nice to know. Now, Sasha, why should you stay in Hell's Kitchen?”

“Listen, Chef, I know I had a bad service tonight. It's not like me. I let the pressure get to me and that's why I fucked up, there's no excuse. But I can promise you that my next service will be better.” Sasha assures him.

“I love cooking and I have so much passion for it. It gives me life, it's what makes me who I _ am _ today and I'm not gonna let this set me back from achieving my dreams. I just need another opportunity to show that to you, Chef.” Although Sasha was annoyed at being put up, this was basically a life or death situation and she was quick to let Chef Jericho know how much she deserves this opportunity.

Jericho's eyes blow wide open at the sudden passionate tone Sasha's voice takes on, rather impressed at how sincere her words are. If anything were to prove she was the boss tonight, it was this speech.

“Damn. Alright... well, looks like I have to come to my decision now.” Jericho says as he looks back and forth between the two, narrowing his eyebrows in concentration once more.

“And my decision is...”

Jericho is quiet for a few moments, the tension and suspense building up in the room and leaving everybody on edge. They're all eager to learn who is gonna be sent home on the very first dinner service and for the red team, they're wondering if they're gonna lose somebody with clearly no passion or somebody who clearly had their heart still in it. Would Chef Jericho be making the right choice?

“... Eva. Take off your jacket, and leave Hell's Kitchen. Thank you.”

Eva walks on up and takes off her red jacket, no longer all red everything as she's now left in just her white t-shirt and black slacks. Giving a polite smile to the chef, she hands over her jacket before looking back at her team, giving a small wave before she turns back to walk over to the door.

_ “Am I disappointed? Absolutely. I was really looking forward to having more time to grow in the kitchen and learn from Chef Jericho. It would've been cool to win and get all that fame, all that money but...” Eva huffs a chuckle through her nose before running her hands back through her hair. “I guess it wasn't meant to be. I'll just learn on my own, I guess.” _

And so Eva Marie was eliminated. Was she really that bad at cooking? Or did she just accept her fate at the very beginning when she learned of all of the talented chefs she'd be working with? Whatever you say about her, there were always gonna be mixed opinions. The world may never know.

“Get back in line, madame. And _ wake up _ .” Jericho advises Sasha before she heads back into line.

“All of you wake up. That service was disastrous and I expected more from such a high quality of talent this season – I'm hoping you all prove to me that this was a one time thing. Now fuck off, you gelatinous tapeworms.” Jericho spits at his contestants before they all head back to their dorms, Sasha receiving a new outlook on life.

_ “It was definitely a wake up call for me.” Sasha says. “I have to do better next time. I can't let anyone down again. Especially not Chef Jericho.” _

As for Eva?

_ “Eva was completely lost in space. So I sent her back to wherever she came from.” Jericho says _ .

And so it leaves 11 chefs now competing for a spot as executive head chef in Chef Chris Jericho's new restaurant, the Appleton in East Hollywood.


End file.
